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"Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard." Anne Sexton 

Heather Brager is a critically acclaimed juggler of calamity, an accomplished procrastinator, and shuffler of idioms. Her poetry and drawings can be found in various digital and print journals around the globe, and on the web.  She currently resides in New England and prefers the precipice of where the Atlantic meets the sand to the official looking office where she spends most of her time. 

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

memorial day.

I couldn't look
but I could see
the reflection of your car
reversed, as the doors
automatically swallowed me
off of the sidewalk
on the east terminal

© may 2011 heather brager

the flight home.

he closes his eyes
praying for a safe landing
or asking to crash

© may 2011 heather brager

Monday, May 23, 2011

fascination of the abomination.

most of the faux-friendships
shallow flirtations
and petty whoring
are entirely indigestible

amid the egocentric rubbish
of those who label themselves “writers”
or even worse, “poets”
the deep and brooding ones
who refer to themselves as “artists”

philandering their pathetic psychosis
and saccharine pathos
on the willing droves of
forlorn, drunken desolates

lurking within internal webbing
in the one dimensional scenery
of sociopathic networking

© may 2011 heather brager

Sunday, May 22, 2011

west in october.

we were driving that time
for hours stacked on hours

through some god forsaken
desolate swamp country

heading straight west
across the bible belt

kathleen edwards was whining
through the speakers

your left hand on the wheel
fingers wrapped around my thigh

passing trucks and lonely men
lingering side by side

I think I asked why people never
move like they have a purpose

as if there was a destination
somehow more important

© may 2011 heather brager

Friday, May 20, 2011

polygonal vs. organic.

sometimes she refuses to mince her words

she spews rapid vowel and consonant combinations
with contemporary edifice
and superlatives with medicinal value

she says what she means, sure as shit.

she’s been firmly advised
to choose her language more carefully
and composition is part of her well oiled machinery

reciting strings of internal poetry
the constant vigilant commentary
that is her mechanical (or maniacal) mind

this somehow tender oblique equilibrium
with her tongue inside of her cheek

(oh, the softness of her pale skin
carefully fostering beauty while
dishing up balanced nourishment)

but, the brashness of her sharpened dialect
there is no power in poise in who she is not

and she cannot dig up a proper explanation
to apologize for being
constructed of nature and modern human artifacts

© may 2011 heather brager

Thursday, May 12, 2011

it's all part of the same thing...

there is a difference
between your desire
and liability

syllables and assonance

while every word reverberates
your intentions in
subtle inflections

existence is calculated
solutions often granted

while you wait at stoplights
in line, inside the lines

burned by sunlight
that was once
your solace

© may 2011 heather brager


we lie and wait

like dust

on the uppermost
book shelf

© may 2011 heather brager

Tuesday, May 3, 2011 experience.

with petals
and dusty
edges curled
after days
in burning
pale softness
by rain
and wind
they still
and bend

© may 2011 heather brager

Monday, May 2, 2011

another morning.

we begin this voyage again
as we awaken in the cool hours before dawn
our restless fatigue burdened by movement

ardor quietly fused, as tendons bond muscle to bone

these are paths we willingly tread
we shove our stiff hands into empty pockets
wonder if we know where we will find ourselves

past overlaps the fraying fabric of familiar patterns

there may perhaps be hopeful destinations
we will handle them as we have many times before
as layered transparencies project onto a dark wall

showing how quickly we overlook our mistakes

© may 2011 heather brager